Disappear Always
by dcshoecousa101
Summary: /ONESHOT. Sometimes, the song might end, but the melody lingers on. Nick has been murdered and Miley has been framed for it. Will Miley finally get the justice she deserves? xNILEY.


_Pull the blinds, all the black dreams I've had, well they don't mean much now_

_When I rise at noon, I'm missing someone I don't know and I don't want to be alone_

_And this house is now a grave, I've been sleeping here for days, I'm too hidden to awake, so I disappear always._

_Call someone up, just to have a drink, let's talk about anything, I don't care_

_Get out of the house, for an hour or two, but it's missing something I can't explain_

_And this house is now a grave, I've been sleeping here for days, I'm too hidden to awake, so I disappear always._

* * *

><p><strong>Miley's POV<strong>

"Miley Stewart, I charge you with the murder of Nicholas Jerry Grey and sentence you to 30 years imprisonment with a right to appeal for bail at 25 years service. I have no sufficient evidence that this was a case of manslaughter, nor any evidence that anyone helped you with this. It is a case of treachery and malice towards one person that loved you more than anyone in the world. May God have mercy on your soul in that prison. That is all." And then the sound of the gavel on wood echoed through my mind as I was pulled from the court pit into a van to be transported to the penitentiary.

"I DIDN'T DO IT!" Subconsciously echoed from my mouth as I was pulled from the court room, tears rolling down my face. The last sight I saw before the same four walls were to be my home for a very long time was Denise crying into Kevin's arms.

But I wasn't lying.

I didn't do it.

* * *

><p><strong>Flashback (5 years ago)<strong>

"So. What's a pretty girl like you doing in a bar like this?" An unfamiliar voice commented from beside me. I turned to look and saw a boy, around my own age, with brown curls and wearing plaid and denim. He smiled at me as I looked at his face. I sipped my Blue Moon beer and cleared my throat.

"I just needed to drink. Somewhere new, y'know?" I replied. The boy nods understandingly.

"Bad break-up, huh?" He comments, sitting on the stool beside me at the bar and shuffled towards me. I looked at him defensively.

"No! I just ne-"

"Spare me the grueling details, but a beautiful young lady like yourself would not be in a bar like this full of bikers and rednecks 20 miles from the city if you didn't want to avoid someone." I looked away but he moves his head to stay in my sight with a cocky smile.

"He cheated on me." I replied on the brink of tears, sipping my beer again to cover my evident weakness. The boy looked at me sympathetically.

"Man... that sucks." He sighed and sipped his own beer. "I'm Nick." He introduces, holding out a hand.

"Miley." I shake his hand and it's soft.

"Miley... that's a pretty name. Suits you." Nick downed the end of his bottle and pulled a face from the bitterness. I did the same, why I'm not sure. "So Miley. You've been in a break-up, it's Friday night, I'm bored. You look like you need some fun. How about we go do something?" He looked at me hopefully.

"Oh, I'm not looking for a one night stand or anything." I say, taking my bag and standing up, ready to walk away from this weirdo. He laughs as I walk towards the door.

"I meant like a long night's drive, or a hike, or a movie. Anything to get your mind off of this...?" He looks at me for a name.

"Chad." I conform.

"Chad." He pauses and stands up, walking over to me. "So?"

I look him up and down. "How do I know you're not a psychopathic murderer... Nick?" He chuckled.

"Well I guess you'll just have to trust me."

* * *

><p><strong>Flashback (3 years ago)<strong>

"NICK, PLEASE STOP IT!" I shouted as Nick tickled me. He gives up, laughing too much to continue and falls onto his back onto my bed. "Finally!" I laughed as I led next to him. I held his hand in the middle of us both as we stared up to my ceiling where there were dozens of glow in the dark stars.

"It's almost as good as the real thing." Nick says, looking over me smirking.

"Shut up." I hiss, knowing he was being sarcastic.

"Do you think we'll grow old together?" He asks, propping his arm up and leaning his head on his palm. He turns so his body is facing my own. I copy his movements so we're facing each other.

"I'd like to think so, Nicholas." I replied, kissing him softly. He smiled in the kiss and I pulled away, his face still in the kissing stance.

"I love you so much, Mi. Like, so much it hurts." He confesses, playing with my finger tips. I smile and take his hand, kissing each of his fingertips on my soft lips.

"I love you too." I kiss his lips. "I love you." I kiss again. "I love you." I kiss again. "I love you." He smiles and pulls me on top of him, now lying flat. I sit with my butt on his manhood.

"Miley please don't move, you're turning me on." He comments, gulping. I smirk and roll my hips back and forth, feeling his pants harden. "Well this went from romantic to the hottest thing you've ever done." He laughs, pulling me down and kissing me hard yet with a firing passion.

"Nick... we can't, my parents are home." I was 23 and still living at home. Nick sighed and sat upwards so we were face to face.

"My house?" He asked cheekily.

"Your house."

* * *

><p><strong>Flashback (1 year ago)<strong>

I'd figured since Nick had a promotion he needed praising. He'd endured that lame job for nearly five years, and was finally getting recognised for all his hard work. I decided I'd go home and get him ready and take him out to our favourite pig out spot in the city.

I'd decided to walk to the gym that day but as I arrived I'd forgotten my wallet, so I had to make the journey home and I come to the conclusion that the 6 mile round trip would cover my exercise. By the time I got home, it was almost nightfall.

"Nick! Get dressed we're going out!" I trilled as I walked into the house. There was no answer. "Nick?"

I looked around the TV was on, Family Feud, and there was a bag of Doritos and a beer on the coffee table. Confused I went into the bedroom, and still there was no Nick. I panicked slightly because I just assumed he'd be there.

"Nick?" I tried again, he wasn't there. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and called him. I heard his tone. "My Girl" by The Temptations echoed down the corridor leading to our bathroom. "Nick, are you in the shower?" I don't know why I asked, no water was running.

"Nick, please answer me, have I done something wrong?" No response. "Okay I'm coming in."

I shouldn't have gone in, it was a bloodbath. Nick's body led in the tub in a marinade of his own blood. Stab wounds were evident on his shirt and neck. My stomach fell. My throat went dry. Shaking, I picked up the knife that was on the floor and dropped it. The tears started to fall.

"NICK." I shouted, shaking him. His body remained still, his face emotionless and eyes open in a stare. Hugging the bloody body, I cried into my boyfriend's cold, demised arms.

"I'll hold you until the day will begin, still, lying in the shadows this new flame will cast

Upon everything we carry from the past, you were made of every love and each regret

Up until the day we met, there are no words that I'm afraid to hear, unless they are "Goodbye, my dear."" I sung/whispered into his body. Not hearing his voice was like a stab wound to my heart. My tears commenced harder.

He was gone. Someone had murdered him.

* * *

><p><strong> Flashback (2 months ago)<strong>

"WHY WOULD I HAVE KILLED HIM? HE'S MY BOYFRIEND! I LOVED HIM!" I shouted in utter rage. The police had turned up at my apartment which I bought after I sold the house Nick and I had shared. It was his murder scene.

"The only evidence we have found anywhere near the scene is yours. There is no evidence of you being anywhere but here in the hours prior to Nicholas' death. We have to investigate you to eliminate any other factors." The police offer told me as they turned up at my apartment. I gulped, shaking again, probably worsening my case.

I ran my hands through my hair as I paced around my living room. The second police officer cleared his throat.

"If you comply with us and come for questioning on your own will, this will be a simple process if you _are_ innocent." He stated. I bit my lip and nodded.

"Okay I'll do it."

* * *

><p><strong>Flashback (1 month ago)<strong>

"So Miley. Where were you the two hours we can't account you for prior to the murder of Nicholas Grey?" The police detective asked me. I was being filmed.

"I'd decided to go to the gym... but when I got there I'd forgotten my wallet so I had to come home and get it." I paused and gulped. "When I got home, that's when I found him in the tub." I sipped my water to hold back the tears coming with the memories of his corpse lying helpless.

"But your car was at home?" The detective stated. "According to your neighbour, your car was home all day on August 15th 2014."

"I walked, I thought it'd be a good warm-up."

"Do you have any evidence of this?"

"How can I have evidence of walking to the gym?"

"Well none of the security cameras at the gymnasium had any footage of you that day."

"I told you, on my way there I realised I'd forgotten my wallet so I had to go back home."

"But did you not just say you realised WHEN you arrived at the gymnasium?"

"IT'S THE SAME THING!" I shouted, huffing back into my seat. The detective paused and shuffled through his files.

"Miley, can you tell me why your hand prints were found on the murder weapon?" He laid out a series of photos from the murder scene. I winced at the sight of Nick. The photo he referred to was the silver knife with wooden handle I'd picked up when I saw it on the ground, covered in the blood of my one love.

"I picked it up in shock when I walked into the bloodbath. No other reason."

"So you didn't use it to stab your boyfriend 26 times in the upper body?" He asked, sinister. My eyes bulged.

"NO! OF COURSE I DIDN'T!" I replied, getting really angry at the false accusations.

"Do you have proof?"

"HOW WOULD I?"

"Well how can we clear you of charges when you're the only one, apart from Nicholas Grey, known to be at the scene and DNA on the murder weapon?"

I breathed deeply and sipped the water.

"Look. I didn't kill Nick. I loved Nick. More than my own life. I would have taken a bullet for him." I sat back and bit my bottom lip. The detective sat back also, writing something on a piece of paper.

"No further questions." He announced, standing up and leaving the room. I exhaled, relieved it was over.

* * *

><p><strong>Flashback (1 week ago)<strong>

"Miley Stewart, you are under the arrest for the murder of Nicholas Jerry Grey on August 15th 2014."

"What?"

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

"WAIT, NO, YOU HAVE IT ALL WRONG!"

"You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you."

"NO, PLEASE, IT WASN'T ME!" And then I was hurled into the back of a police car. They had it all wrong. I didn't kill him. I was too angry and scared to speak. Instead, I started to panic about going to prison for, potentially, the rest of my life.

* * *

><p><strong>Present Day<strong>

"I shouldn't be here." I whispered under my breath as the cell door shut. Orange was _definitely_ the new black. I laid back on my new bed, and burst into tears. Nick was dead, and everyone I know and love thinks I was the one who did such a horrible thing.

I closed my eyes as my head hit the hard pillow.

"She may be the face I can't forget, a trace of pleasure or regret, may be my treasure or the price I have to pay. She may be the song that summer sings, may be the chill that autumn brings, may be a hundred different things, within the measure of a day." I sang almost inaudibly to myself. Nick always sang this to me when I couldn't sleep. Oh how I wish he could be here right now to sing to me. If he was here, this would not be where I'd be spending my life.

I opened my eyes to see the grey brick ceiling above me. This was my life now. The flap at the bottom of my door opened and a tray slid in, the flap quickly closing.

I stood up to pick the tray up to see my lunch; a lump of stale bread, some sort of chicken chowder and a glass of water. I stared at it, my eyes welling. This was all wrong.

I placed the tray on the floor and led back down, hoping sleep would kill this horrible nightmare I was living. "Slipping Through the Sensors" by Fruit Bats echoed through my mind as I tried to sleep off my pain.

Nick was dead. And I had nothing.

* * *

><p><strong>2 Years Later<strong>

I got out of the car, bag in hand and made a farewell to the taxi driver. He drove off and I stood beneath the warm sun, eyes closed, inhaling the fresh air deeply into my lungs. The sun made my pale skin tingle, and I opened my eyes, stood in front of my old apartment block.

A few days ago, the police had an anonymous person come through and lead them to a man called Ezra Page. Ezra Page was a colleague who Nick often had arguments with in work, and when Nick got his promotion, Ezra was outraged he didn't get it. Ezra had very bad aggression problems, and as soon as the police turned up, he confessed. He told them everything. He had gone to the house, argued with Nick and killed him in rage. No evidence was found because he was wearing leather gloves at the time, "driving gloves" he called them.

Ezra Page was arrested, and I was free. I was finally free.

I got into my apartment, exactly how I'd left it and sat on the sofa. I looked around and noticed the dust settled on everything. I stood up and walked over to the fireplace, where a dust had settled on my favourite photo.

I wiped it off to reveal a photo of Nick and I on top of a mountain overlooking L.A. He had his arms wrapped around me, and I was kissing his cheek, one leg in the air. A tear landed on the glass and I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my jumper. I placed the photo back down and sat on the sofa again.

I might have been free in theory, but I would never be free of the pain. Nick was gone, and I was somehow expected to start a life without him.

I leaned back and closed my eyes. Ezra Page had ruined my life. I opened my eyes and saw the record player in the corner of the living room. I walked over and played it on whatever part I had ended it on over 3 years ago. It was "Disappear Always" by Wild Nothing. I couldn't help but notice the lyrics irony.

"_And this house is now a grave, I've been sleeping here for days, I'm too hidden to awake, so I disappear always."_

Soon, the song ended. But the melody lingered on. Much like Nick inside the song of my life.

* * *

><p><strong>Just some freelance writing. I really liked this. What a treat, hey!<strong>

**Katie xxxx**


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